


Stories of the Second Self: Essence of Night

by John_Steiner



Series: Alter Idem [156]
Category: Urban Fantasy - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:01:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22726564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/John_Steiner/pseuds/John_Steiner
Summary: A city coroner, Dr. Wisner conducts a briefing before the newly elected vampiric Cincinnati mayor and city council regarding the five supernatural demographics during the first year of the federal occupation.
Series: Alter Idem [156]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618813





	Stories of the Second Self: Essence of Night

"And that's it," Dr. Wisner said to members of the city government, after outlining the dark cloud at the center of a human cell in the image.

One person in particular who Wisner noticed took keen interest was Cincinnati's openly vampiric mayor. "That's at the center of every one of the cells in my body?"

The federal occupation left very little for the newly elected mayor and city council to do. It at least gave them plenty of time for meetings like this, where they would be schooled on the new reality of Alter Idem.

"Each of the five supernatural demographics have characters that reach down to the cellular level and, it's suspected," Wisner added with emphasis, "that it either alters their DNA or augments it. For vampires there is no DNA left. With the absence of mitochondria it's believed that the nucleus takes over the majority role of cellular respiration, including electron acceptor, so that oxygen is no longer needed. No one in the state nor the federal authorities know how it works."

"What 'do' you know?" Councilman Quentin Candelaria made it sound like an insult.

Wisner suspected that was the Fae elder councilman's habit even before he sprouted ten-point antlers from his powder white forehead.

"It helps explain why vampires get by without a heartbeat," Wisner said out loud, and added in his mind, 'though that's different from being a heartless asshole.'

"I'm reading here," Councilwoman Claretta Atwood offered up while still looking at the submitted report, "That you personally established that there is no alternative to human blood for vampires. Could you explain that?"

"Myself and others from the city coroner's office were tapped because of our work on the vigilante case last year, where vampires, werewolves, and a police officer were targeted. From the cell and tissue samples, my team, the University of Cincinnati, and other experts in the state received, that were chemically active we found a rather violent reaction to anything else. We tried a straight glucose saline solution with traces of nitrates and phosphates that you'd expect in any food source, and the vampiric cells responded positively, but that left out amino acids and other essential nutrients.

"Working upwards," Wisner went on, "we started to include carbohydrates, proteins, and lipids you'd commonly find in food. Basically, we ran the solution through a glorified blender to be sure all the cells were broken up before applying it to the active samples and something like an allergic reaction began. With the tissue slides where immune cells were still present we discovered that the Killer T cells attacked all fragments of foreign cells and much of their contents."

"You're saying that vampires can't eat anything other than humans," Councilwoman Adwood deduced.

"Well," Wisner scratched at his ear, "eat? No. A vampire's stomach terminates with blood vessels that rout straight to the heart. Vampire stomachs don't produce stomach acids or enzymes, which is why we excluded that from our nutrient supplements. Solid foods would just create blockages. Though, when we say human blood, it also appears that includes blood from all our supernatural donors. Vampires could conceivably feed off each other, provided one has enough to go around, but they don't produce their own red blood cells."

Quentin Candelaria signaled to the council chairman for time to interject, "Given what you stated in our last meeting, would you suggest an ordinance for werewolves to donate?"

"Excuse me, councilman?" Wisner knew what he heard, but he wanted to give the Quentin Candelaria a chance to walk back his statement.

"A city ordinance," Councilman Candelaria repeated, "A requirement that werewolves donate blood, say-- once a week as a condition of their continued residency in the city."

"That's not where I was going with this," Wisner responded with enough firmness in his tone to make his intent apparent. "The general practice of drawing blood is for donors to offer one unit every eight weeks."

"Human donors," Quentin Candelaria as if to correct Wisner. "You made it clear that werewolf regeneration is so rapid that they could lose two units a day and not feel any adverse health effects."

"That's not quite how it was described, and part of that is from a medical report by the Federal Stabilization Command for Ohio, not my team. I would add that it's conditional on werewolves having enough nutrition to aid in that recovery, which... that's a lot of food. We've already seen that in giants an eight-fold grocery bill has proven hard to maintain even at upper middle class income levels.

"Werewolves, who have a heightened metabolism, also are feeling the financial squeeze from food costs," Wisner explained, seeing in Quentin Candelaria's face that he really didn't care.

"What would you suggest then?" Councilwoman Atwood asked.

"My legal expertise only pertains to forensic evidence collection and in-court testimony, but I think the basics of the fifth amendment of not to 'be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law' should still be applicable."

"Even if said person isn't medically alive?" Quentin Candelaria prodded.

"Ah, Councilman, werewolves are alive and therefore meet the heartbeat personhood provision," Wisner clarified, valiantly hiding his disdain both for the pre-Alter Idem legislation and Quentin Candelaria's amendments to it, after the city was forced to grapple with the revelation of supernatural emergence.

The mayor leaned forward in his seat to look over at Quentin Candelaria, who in turn noticed the attention and appeared to dial back some of his animosity as he spoke, "The city council is tasked with developing a regimen by which all of us can live under when federal occupation ends. How can we do that if one group of residents is nutritionally dependent on the rest?"

"Ideally, I'd suggest training every vampire in phlebotomy," Wisner offered up initially, "However, I don't think that's practical. As to who they draw from and how I think maybe something like the Red Cross."

"I'm not sure how many people would voluntarily stand in line to offer up their blood without compensation, particularly at night where it's safe for us," Mayor Mathieson said, leaning back in his chair with Chief-of-Staff Ungert seated at his left.

"What about requiring vampire residents to to be EMT certified?" Councilwoman Atwood asked, "Many people choose to become CPR certified without advancing into medical fields. Suppose we were to develop guidelines for a more convenient pathway to earning an EMT card without undermining safeguards?"

"I think," Wisner nodded in ready agreement, "that's a workable solution. You'll have to include an interim period where vampires can draw blood from voluntary donors prior to becoming EMT certified."

"It sounds to me like we have a good foundation on which to proceed," Councilwoman Atwood addressed all in attendance, though her focus was on Councilman Candelaria.

"Provided that there coincides a strong enforcement mechanism to keep our other constituents safe," Quentin Candelaria laid out in condition.

Wisner figured that was self-evident already, and he suspected Quentin Candelaria added it for political theatrics. He'd learned from Mayor Mathieson a hard lesson about scooping divisionist rhetoric for political gain. Mathieson's fast move to push the Werewolf Weapon Possession Ordinance catapulted the vampire from the city council into the mayor's office, even though the mayor personally employed werewolves as security officers to his office.


End file.
